Kisses
by KateToast
Summary: The numerous first kisses of Zoey Brooks.
1. Twelve

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Zoey 101.

**A/N**: Some vignettes focusing on the first-kisses Zoey has in her life.

**XXX**

By the tender age of twelve, Zoey Brooks knew a lot of things.

She knew how to do algebraic problems in minutes, the ones that took most eighth-graders almost half an hour to finish. She knew all about the earth and gravity and the threat of global warming. She knew how to spell the really difficult words most kids in her class couldn't, and she knew the world's geography like it was her job.

She did not, however, know what it was like to kiss a boy. In that subject, she was completely lost. However, at the tender age of twelve, Zoey Brooks learned.

The town of Louisiana she lived in was small; the kind of place where everyone knew everything about everybody. The kids all stuck together, the oldest looking out for the youngest, the ones in the middle caught somewhere in between.

The oldest in the group Zoey ran with was a boy named Eric, who turned thirteen right after Zoey turned twelve. Zoey had always thought he was cute, but of course she'd never told anyone that. She didn't know about boys the way she knew about math and science and English and history. School had always come easy to her. But now that she was beginning to notice the opposite sex, Zoey was learning they were anything but easy.

One day the neighborhood kids started an intense game of Capture the Flag. Eric was the team captain for the boys, while Zoey was captain for the girls, since she was the oldest out of them. She liked being in charge, liked thinking up strategy, didn't mind getting her knees dirty.

Eric had always been nice to her, nicer than he was to any of the other kids. Normally boys with crushes were mean to the girls who had stolen their hearts, which was why, until this memorable day, Zoey had had no idea he'd been holding a torch for her since he'd moved into the neighborhood when he was eight, and she was seven.

It was when Capture the Flag had reached a pivotal moment that Zoey came upon Eric in the woods behind their houses, having just captured his team's flag and with no one from either side in sight, though children's voices could be heard in the near distance. Zoey was determined to get back to her camp, but with the much-larger boy now in her path, she wasn't seeing how that was going to work out.

They'd stared each other down; Zoey had always been stubborn, but apparently this boy could match her. Finally, he'd asked her if she wanted to get by.

She said yes, obviously.

He said he'd let her by- and then added, hesitantly, only if she kissed him.

Zoey's mind had gone a mile a minute. Kiss him? A boy? She'd never done that before. What if she did it wrong? What if someone saw? Did she want to win this game that badly?

She looked Eric up and down, not at all subtly. He stood tall, but it was apparent he was nervous. He'd continued on to promise that he wouldn't tell anyone.

Fine, she'd agreed, her stubbornness shining through, her need to win more important than anything else.

It was quick, barely five seconds long, and he'd fumbled a little stepping back from her, looking a bit dazed. Zoey hadn't even put the flag down or anything. She grinned at him, a blush across her cheeks, and then took off at full speed.

That was the first time the girls team had ever won Capture the Flag, and the last time Zoey had really ever spoken to Eric.

**XXX**


	2. Thirteen

**XXX**

A pick-up game of basketball had been started in the late afternoon, and by dusk parents were calling their children inside for dinner, to get away from the harsh summer mosquitoes, to wash up after being outside all day. It had been a perfect summer day, but it was coming to a close.

Zoey stayed out even after the other kids went inside, dribbling the basketball expertly in the street, shooting at the hoop that had been placed up on one of the telephone poles. In less than two weeks she was going to boarding school- Pacific Coast Academy, where her younger brother Dustin attended. She was a pioneer, soon to be one of the first girls to ever go to school at PCA.

She hated to admit it, but she was nervous, especially about leaving her parents and her friends. She loved Louisiana; loved the small town she lived in and her neighborhood and the kids she'd grown up with. She wouldn't know anyone at PCA except for Dustin, though Zoey wasn't too worried about that, since she'd never had much trouble making friends.

A front door slammed shut and Zoey glanced up, still dribbling the ball. She smiled and passed the basketball to her good friend Nick, who was just a few months older and whom Zoey was going to miss more than practically anyone. They'd been best friends when they were younger, and though they'd grown apart, she still liked to hang out with him, talk to him. He'd become quite attractive, and Zoey could only imagine how handsome he'd be when she returned home next summer after puberty had fully settled in.

He shot at the basket and missed. She teased him about it while shooting the ball herself, the net swishing as it went in. Soon they were laughing and playing an informal game of one-on-one, talking with ease between shots. He asked about PCA, about her feelings on the matter. She asked him if he'd miss her, but he had only asked in reply if _she_ would miss _him_.

That was when he'd stopped dribbling the basketball and had just held it, almost absently, staring at her seriously. Zoey had knit her brow, confused by his sudden demeanor change. She answered that of course she'd miss him; she'd miss him more than any of her other friends, probably.

He'd kept staring at her, and then he'd looked down at the ball. If I make this basket, I'll tell you a secret, he'd promised her. She'd stepped back to watch, admiring his form- and how cute he looked when concentrating.

Before the ball had even swished into the net he'd started taking slow steps towards her. Zoey had stood, waiting for him to reach her. What did you want to tell me, was what she asked.

He explained shakily, haltingly, with more courage than she'd seen in any boy, that he was going to miss her so much because he liked her. _Liked her_, liked her, in the only way almost-eighth-grade boys knew how.

There had been a silence, the kind that was full of tension and unsure feelings. Zoey recalled her last kiss, her first kiss, remembering the way Eric had leaned in and lightly brushed his lips to her, and then pulled back slowly, the smell of dirt and trees everywhere. It had happened in the woods behind a few houses down nearly a year ago. That seemed like such a long time ago, now.

Zoey had been suddenly filled with the same determination she'd felt that day to win Capture the Flag, except this time, she wanted to kiss the boy in front of her more than anything.

So she did.

She'd closed the distance between them and planted her dry lips on his, and shut her eyes and enjoyed the moment. Nick had been taken aback at first, but had then let his eyes also fall close and pressed firmly back. They'd pulled apart at the same moment just a few seconds later, and Zoey had barely been able to meet his steady gaze, his lazy smile making her more nervous than she'd ever been.

After taking a breath, he'd slowly began to ask if she'd consider, maybe, just maybe, being his girlfriend. Then Zoey had remember she was going to PCA in two weeks, and she wouldn't be home again until Thanksgiving, maybe not even until Christmas, and that was only for a week or two. She'd be on the west coast for two-thirds of the year, and they were only thirteen-going-on-fourteen. As much as Zoey liked this boy she'd known forever, she couldn't promise something like that.

So she'd explained that to him, and he'd understood, and he'd picked up the basketball and tossed it back to her and went inside his house, waving once at his doorstep.

That was the first time Zoey had ever actually wanted to kiss a boy, and the last time she had ever felt that way about Nick.

**XXX**


	3. Fifteen

**XXX**

Towards the end of her freshman year at PCA, right after the disastrous spring break at Logan's house, Zoey went on a date.

She didn't tell her friends about it for fear of teasing and questions, and something _else_, though Zoey couldn't put her finger on the third reason. It was floating in the back of her mind every time she was alone, and even more so every time she was alone with a certain bushy-haired best friend of hers. The something _else_ had sprung up when she'd gone on her innocent coffee-date with Danny, which had ended agreeably, though not affectionately and with no signs pointing towards a deeper relationship than friends.

Shawn was from her history class, and they'd talked before, even hung out with a large group once or twice, so she didn't feel uncomfortable saying yes to his ask-out. Zoey was always willing to try new things, and going on a date was something new she was willing to do.

He was cute, very cute, and reminded her a little of her old best friend Nick back home, who she hadn't spoken to since their kiss before eighth grade two years ago. Shawn had light-brown hair that he spiked up in the front. He wasn't too tall, only having an inch on Zoey, if that. He was sort of bulky, but in a broad way that wasn't unattractive, especially since he was one of the most promising freshmen on the PCA football team.

It was her first real date, the kind that every girl dreams of when she's young. Shawn knocked on the door to room 101 at 7:00 sharp and Zoey answered the door, dressed and ready to go out. He smiled just right and put his hand on the small of her back easily and they walked to Sushi Rox discussing random topics: schoolwork, teachers, PCA in general.

He was easy to talk to, that was true, but Zoey found their conversations didn't stray much from school. Honestly, they didn't really have that much in common. Both attempted numerous times to tell a story or joke about a friend, but Shawn didn't know Zoey's friends well, and visa versa. They ended up discussing their huge end-of-term history paper that was due in two weeks for almost half the meal, and she opted out of ice cream when he suggested some as they passed the kiosk. It was still pretty early, only a little after 8:00, but Zoey knew the evening should end then.

He walked her right up to the door of room 101, coming full circle as he placed his hand on the small of her back as they got closer to it. She thanked him shyly, and he grinned, and they stared at each other, and she remembered that determination she'd felt about kissing Nick two years ago, and suddenly it was back as she admired Shawn's lips.

Zoey wasn't sure who made the first move, but their mouths met for a brief moment. She didn't have to strain her neck or stand on her tip-toes at all since they were practically the same height. Shawn pulled back for a second, but that determination was still there so Zoey pulled his face back to hers, their lips crashing together. It wasn't _only_ determination that was fueling her forwardness; she was a little curious, too.

They stood outside her door, kissing and pulling apart for a breath and coming together again, for how long Zoey wasn't sure. The kisses deepened and she stroked the hair at the bottom of Shawn's neck, and he wrapped his arms more firmly around her back. His tongue slid across her lower lip, and Zoey found herself enjoying kissing this boy.

But something was bothering her. Probably the same something that had bothered her when Shawn had first asked her out to dinner, when he'd picked her up at her door, when his hand had brushed hers as they ate their sushi, as he guided her towards room 101. The reason she hadn't told her friends about the date.

Shawn pulled back to catch his breath, and his grip around her sides loosened, and Zoey took that opportunity to back away from him, panting slightly. They'd just made out in front of her dorm room door and anyone could have seen. Why hadn't she thought of that? Her stupid determination had clouded all of her other judgments.

She'd smiled at him and he'd smiled back, her lip gloss smudged around his mouth. They agreed it was time to split, and said goodnight breezily, with no promises of going out again. They both knew this was a one-time deal.

That was the first time Zoey had ever made out with a guy, and the last time she had ever made out with a guy in plain sight.

**XXX**


	4. Sixteen

**XXX**

Sophomore year happened in the blink of an eye. At least, it felt that way to Zoey.

School kept her busy, and if she wasn't doing schoolwork, she was hanging out with her friends or keeping her little brother Dustin out of trouble. But there was something else developing under the surface of all of this, and only two people knew about it.

Chase's beloved grandmother passed away on his birthday. Zoey had been planning on bringing her to PCA as the best birthday present ever for her best friend, but at the last second Grandma Matthews had begged off because of 'the flu'.

The next night, as she held a sobbing Chase in her arms in the pouring rain, Zoey knew it hadn't just been 'the flu'.

Their relationship over the past three years hadn't fluctuated too much. They'd easily slipped into being best friends in eighth grade, Zoey's first year at PCA, along with the rest of their tight-knit group. But something was different about Zoey's friendship with Chase, though she'd never questioned it. She'd noticed things here and there, little aspects anyone else would wave away; hands resting a little too long, glances lasting a few extra moments, eyes brightening at mere mentions of the other, tension thicker and more obvious, expectations a little higher than normal.

In ninth grade, Zoey began noticing feelings that had been dormant before. Unexplainable jealousy towards her roommate, Lola; watching Chase longer than necessary; seeking him out just to see him smile at her; the awful Spring Break where she'd picked a stupid fight with him.

But then she'd gone on a date with a classmate named Shawn, and summer had crept up from no where, and they'd returned for sophomore year, and Chase had found himself a girlfriend. Rebecca.

They'd broken up soon enough, though not as quickly as Zoey would have liked. She wanted Chase to herself, and she wasn't sure why. She was pretty sure, however, that the answer was staring her in the face.

So after Chase's grandmother had died and Zoey had comforted him in the rain, and led him back to her dorm room and let him fall asleep on the couch with her head on his shoulder, they'd grown closer. Touches lasted much longer than normal, though not long enough, in Zoey's mind. Time alone with him became more precious. He started buying her lunch here and there, a Blix between classes, sometimes even dinner. In a group they sat close together, leg against leg, shoulder against shoulder, and he always walked her back to her dorm room at the end of the evening.

On one of the last days they had at PCA before the summer spread everyone across the country once more, a large chunk of the school went to the beach. Their friends ran into the water intending to have fun, but both Zoey and Chase made excuses and instead took a walk together along the shore, bumping against each other every other step.

They stopped so Zoey could pick up a certain shell that had caught her eye, and the wind picked up for a moment, blowing some loose stands of hair falling from her ponytail into her face. Chase smiled and tucked the strands behind her ear, making her blush. In a bold move, he left his hand at the base of her neck, under her ear, and the look in his eyes made her shiver in the seventy-five-degree heat. His bushy hair was being blown sideways by the breeze and she wanted to run her fingers through it.

It was the moment Zoey had been waiting for since eighth grade, though for the majority of those three years it had been subconsciously. You are a great guy, she told him sincerely.

That was apparently all the invitation Chase needed, and he put his other hand under her other ear and pulled her to him, not caring if most of the school could see them. They were a quarter of a mile from the crowd, anyway.

She smiled when he kissed her, the feeling of his lips on hers a very welcome action. She wondered why they hadn't been doing this since they'd met. She didn't even think of those other boys she'd kissed before. She only thought of Chase: his smile, his laugh, his eyes, his hair, his arms, his legs. She thought of his many expressive looks: joy and anger and pride and sadness.

They separated at the same time, and she was chuckling softly to herself. He was beaming like she had never seen before, and she thought of another of his looks: the look he got when he was watching her.

She asked him lightly, Now why haven't we ever done that before? And he replied, I don't know, but I've wanted to since I first saw you.

I'll let you in on a secret, she told him, and he waited expectantly, his hands on her shoulders. I've wanted to kiss you since I first saw you, too.

And for those words, he had to kiss her again.

It didn't get heated, and it didn't go beyond one more seconds-long kiss, but they walked back to their classmates with their hands clasped between them, and for now, that was enough. They had time for more later.

That was the first time Zoey had ever felt a rush of such intense feelings that she hadn't even known how to classify them, and the last time she had ever considered Chase as only her best friend.

**XXX**


	5. Eighteen

**XXX**

Spin the bottle had been a very, very bad idea, and Zoey was going to kill whoever had decided it was time to play it.

She was sitting in the circle of high school seniors, half-angry and half-dejected and fully-annoyed. They were all seventeen and eighteen; weren't they a little too old to be playing spin the bottle?

When she'd first voiced her frustrations towards the stupid game, Lola, who had dragged her to this party thrown by some theater people, insisted it was only because she and Chase had just broken up. Again.

Zoey was stubborn and hated admitting defeat, so only in her mind did she concede that Lola was right. It felt like every other week now she and Chase were arguing and 'taking breaks', especially since graduation was rapidly approaching and they'd be heading off to different colleges at the end of August. She'd been accepted early to Harvard, pre-med. She'd decided during junior year that she wanted to be a pediatrician, and it had helped her that a family friend knew some admissions people at the prestigious Ivy League school. Zoey had known since November that she was heading to Boston at the end of the summer, going from one end of the country at boarding school to the other at college.

Chase hadn't applied early to any schools, instead 'waiting for spring like the old days'. He'd applied to Boston University, and a few other schools nearby in Massachusetts, someday hoping to become a writer. Zoey had urged him to go to college wherever he wanted to, but he had been firm in wanting to be close to her. For a few blissful months they'd discussed their upcoming college years, which they'd be spending together.

Then Chase's parents had insisted he apply to their alma maters, both of which were in California. Then he'd begun considering taking a year off and going to Europe to write the Great American Novel. Then he'd become testy about the subject of Harvard, wondering if Zoey would be too good for him come next September.

Then they'd begun fighting.

Zoey loved Chase, and he loved her, and they'd been together for almost two years, but right now she was in her 'I hate Chase' mode, and she was at a party, and they were playing spin the bottle, and a cute theater friend of Lola's was eyeing her.

And suddenly, for no explainable reason, as Cute Theater Friend got ready to spin the empty Blix bottle, Zoey prayed it would land on her.

She didn't know why she wanted it to. She just did. Even though Chase wasn't here, she wanted to make him jealous. She wanted him to imagine her kissing another guy and feel awful about it and stop arguing with her (even though half the time she was starting the fights, but she wasn't about to admit that).

Lo and behold, when the bottle stopped, it was pointed at Zoey. Lola cheered and exclaimed for Cute Theater Friend to show the newly-single girl a good time. He promised that he'd do his best, in his Cute Theater Friend-ish way.

Zoey let him crawl across the circle to her, waiting anxiously. She hadn't kissed any other boy except Chase since freshman year, and hadn't planned to since they'd gotten together. Just like moments before, her mood once again suddenly changed, but this time, she no longer wanted to kiss Cute Theater Friend.

Too late.

He leaned forward and left a lasting kiss on her glossy lips, his hands planted on the floor on either side of her. She tried not to kiss him back, her mind worrying now about Chase being jealous, about him imagining her kissing another guy and feeling awful about it and breaking up with her for good. Cute Theater Guy's lips were light on hers, but not as light as she would've liked. Lola was still cheering.

When he finally backed off (it was seconds later, but to Zoey it felt like hours), he winked at her and backtracked to his spot in the circle across from her. The juvenile game of spin the bottle ended just a few kisses later, when an RA entered the room and wondered what the hell was going on.

As she was exiting the dorm with the other party-attendees, Cute Theater Friend sauntered up to Zoey and asked if she'd like to perform an encore of earlier in his room. She declined as nicely as possible and practically ran to Chase's dorm, kissing him as soundly as possible when he opened the door in his pajama's, fighting be damned.

That was the first time Zoey had ever kissed a guy out of spite towards another, and the last time she had ever wanted to.

**XXX**


	6. Twenty One

**XXX**

Zoey decided, very tipsily, that she should _not_ be allowed in to college parties when there would be alcohol involved.

As a junior at Harvard, and a pre-med student to boot, Zoey felt a lot of pressure on her at almost any given moment. She'd never been this stressed at PCA, and had always been in control of nearly all situations thrown her way. She'd been the responsible and mature one. But now she was in college, a whole different playing field.

And sometimes, she wanted to let loose.

Her roommate, Samantha, had convinced her to stop studying and start partying. It was Friday night, they were young and hot, and there was free alcohol just a few floors up. Zoey had waffled at first, unsure about going through the effort of picking out an outfit and doing all her makeup and heading up a few flights of stairs just for some lousy party. Plus, what if Chase called? He'd had a late seminar and had said he'd call when it was over.

Sam told her to leave the 'husband' (as all of Zoey's friends fondly called her boyfriend) in mystery for a few hours and come have fun upstairs.

Zoey had easily agreed, and soon Sam was tossing shirts and pants and skirts out of the closet, giving her friend a wide selection. In no time both were dressed and putting the finishing touches on their makeup. Sam promised they'd know people there, and soon enough she and Zoey were dancing down the hallway to loud music with drinks in their hands, people waving and saying hi to them as they passed.

They found a few friends of theirs hanging out in one dorm room on some beanbags, playing a drinking game and laughing hysterically. Zoey felt the alcohol beginning to work, everything in front of her becoming funnier and funnier with each sip she took, her speech slurring a little at certain words, her mind completely removed from textbooks and homework and the phone call she was supposed to be receiving from her boyfriend of almost five years.

Five years, she began considering, is a very long time. Zoey voiced the thought aloud to a few of her friends, and they nodded along and interjected with their own comments. She went on and on about Chase and how great he was and how long they'd been together and how she wanted to spend forever with him. By the time she got to the last bit most of her listeners had moved on to other conversations or one of the numerous dance parties that were going on in the hallway.

Only one guy remained; Kyle from her organic chemistry class. He wasn't as drunk as Zoey, but he was slowly catching up to her. They loudly joked about their teacher, Professor Brinkley whom the students called 'Professor Stinky' because of his horrible breath you could smell from the back of the lecture hall. They discussed fellow classmates and graduation and the type of medicine they were planning on studying until neither Zoey nor Kyle had any idea what they were talking about anymore. They laughed and Zoey slipped off of her beanbag onto Kyle.

She was still chuckling to herself, resting against Kyle's side, when he started staring at her funny. Zoey asked if there was something on her face and began frantically wiping her cheeks, but he only snorted and grabbed one of her hands to stop her. The music had switched to a slower song but the party was still going strong around them.

Kyle kept a hold of her hand, and Zoey pointed out unclearly that she'd need it back at some point. He smiled and pulled her up to a sitting position, still holding her hand, and then he tilted his head and kissed her.

Zoey barely had a chance to react. Her eyes stayed opened as his lips pressed to hers. He hadn't even opened his mouth but she could practically taste the vodka-and-whatever-else he'd been drinking. She remembered Chase and her eyes became even wider.

She pushed him away from her and in the process fell back against the bean bag roughly, ripping her hand from his grasp. I have a boyfriend person that I love very very much! she shouted at her classmate, who was blushing profusely and apologizing like crazy.

She got up unsteadily and stalked away, leaving Kyle looking pitiful and stupid on the beanbag. Sam was dancing with a guy friend of theirs in the hallway, and Zoey grabbed her arm and dragged her away from the crowd, explaining what had just happened. Sam, who had a better grasp of her senses at the moment than her roommate, took Zoey's hand and helped her down the three flights of stairs to their floor, leading her to their room.

Zoey was very upset. She had kissed another guy! But he had kissed her so did it technically count? Of course it did because he wasn't Chase and there had been a kiss and she had cheated on him and he was going to break up with her and that'd be five years down the drain and she'd love him forever and he'd get married and move on and she'd be stuck following his writing career through the newspaper and internet and have to resort to stalking him in her old age.

At least, that was what she'd prattled to Sam about for twenty minutes. Then there was a knock at the open door and Chase was standing there, his bushy hair as wild as ever (probably from running his hands through it repeatedly), his Red Sox shirt rumpled (probably from slouching at the seminar for so long), and his pants wrinkly (probably from sitting in the same position for a few hours).

Zoey stumbled to him, her drunken haze beginning to ware off, and told him the entire story from the moment they'd entered the party to just then when he'd appeared at the door. Sam excused herself early on to head back upstairs.

At first Chase had been angry and had wanted to punch the Kyle guy in the face, but then Zoey had reminded him he'd probably just hurt himself and he'd acknowledged that and forgiven her. She told him she never wanted to kiss another guy except him again and he grinned and kissed her liquor-tasting mouth and told her he never wanted to kiss another girl except her again either.

That was the first time Zoey had ever made that promise, and the last time she had ever gotten drunk at a dorm party.

**XXX**


	7. Twenty Four

**XXX**

In all of Zoey's years of kissing, since the tender age of twelve, this kiss was probably the most important one.

She and Chase had practiced, of course, and had made it practically an art form, but the idea that they were going to have to kiss in front of all their friends and family, with everyone watching and analyzing… well, that made Zoey nervous.

They were younger than they'd originally planned to be when they got married, but Chase hadn't been able to help himself from popping the question on the first anniversary of them moving into an apartment in Boston together. Zoey was going into her second year of medical school, though she'd been taking some courses over the summer, and Chase was writing for a local newspaper. They'd received some financial help from their parents when they'd first moved in, but soon enough they'd been able to rely on themselves (thank God for rent control).

He'd made them dinner one night when she'd had a late class; put on some jazz music and lit some candles; set the table with a tablecloth and their fancy plates; opened all the windows to let in the summer breeze. She'd come home to this wonderful scene and had been content enough with the romantic dinner alone, but when he'd gotten down on one knee and produced a ring from his pocket, it had been almost too much, too perfect.

She'd said yes, of course. Secretly, she'd been dreaming of marrying him for eight years, ever since they'd gotten together sophomore year at PCA. It had been one hell of a kiss, after he'd slid the modest, but beautiful, ring onto her finger.

And now today they were making it official.

She walked down the aisle on her father's arm in time with the music, grinning at the man waiting for her at the end of it. The best man, Michael, was one of Chase and Zoey's closest friends from PCA, and the ushers were some college buddies of Chase's. The Maid of Honor was Zoey's former roommate at Harvard, Sam, and her bridesmaids were Lola and Quinn, still two of her best girl friends even after all of this time.

She was mesmerized by Chase more than anything, however. She kept having flashes in her mind; images and memories of him ranging from him riding his bike into a pole to right now in his tux waiting for her to join him in front of the minister. She remembered when he was a boy, her best friend, and she smiled at him now, a man, still her best friend but now even more than that. Her everything.

The ceremony began and they held hands during the minister's entire speech. As the wedding flew by and Zoey felt the end coming nearer, she became more anxious, more nervous, worrying, for some reason, that she was going to somehow mess up their first kiss as a married couple. The kiss the rest of their life together would be built on.

Suddenly she was saying I do, and he was saying I do, and the minister was pronouncing them husband and wife, and it was time for the big finale. Their guests were cheering and clapping and whistling and Chase was grinning with tears in his eyes, and Zoey felt her own gaze becoming misty.

They instinctively moved towards each other, heads tilting slightly and arms wrapping around each other. Zoey put more into this kiss than she had thought was possible, and she could tell Chase was doing the same. It was a long kiss, and she couldn't help but recall their very first kiss back when they were sixteen and on the beach. It had been perfect, but _this _kiss, well, it was definitely beating out any of its competition by a long run.

His lips made her feel secure, safe, loved, and he tasted like home.

They broke apart because, well, they were in front of a crowd, and rushed down the aisle holding hands, happy as could be.

That was the first time Zoey had ever kissed Chase as her husband and his wife, and the last time she had ever gotten married.

**XXX**


	8. Twenty Seven

**XXX**

She panted heavily, collapsing back against the propped-up bed. Her face was covered in sweat, her makeup, done so meticulously earlier, most likely now reduced to smudges and dark trails along her cheeks. She hadn't been prepared for this today.

Zoey was slowly catching her breath as Chase stroked her hand and cried with a smile on his face.

A baby was screaming from somewhere by Zoey's legs, and suddenly it hit her: that was _her_ baby screaming. She and Chase's. She had just given life to that little red person wailing at the top of their tiny lungs.

The doctor told them happily that it was a girl, and Zoey let out a noise half-laugh, half-sob, her emotions a wreck by this point. She was exhausted from the long labor, from the waiting around after her water had broken but before her contractions had started, from the last eight-and-a-half months of being pregnant.

Chase was grinning like a fool, dark circles under his eyes and bushy hair everywhere, but when Zoey turned her head to the side on the sweat-soaked pillow and caught him staring at her like that, she found him to be beautiful. She nearly forgot that just minutes before she'd been cursing like a sailor at him for 'putting her in this position'.

They'd been married over three years, but even at twenty-seven they hadn't planned on children for another year or two. Zoey had just completed her internship at a hospital in Boston and was entering residency when she'd found out she was pregnant. Chase was writing for the _Boston Globe_, slowly working his way up the newsroom food chain, only just beginning to get articles looked at by the editor, with a few even going so far as to be printed in the much-read newspaper. Neither had been ready for family life.

At first Zoey had been scared, nervous, even a little angry (at who, she wasn't sure), but when she'd come home from the hospital after confirming the pregnancy and broke the news to her husband, her mood had changed. Chase had been petrified, at first, but in a blink of an eye he'd been ecstatic, grabbing Zoey and making her dance with him around their condo's living room. She'd become excited at the idea of their child growing inside of her, happy to tell her family and Chase's family and all of their friends, a few going so far back as PCA even ten years later. They were lucky; after the baby was born Zoey would have to return to the random hours of hospital life, but Chase would be able to work from home often enough, his time in the newsroom flexible.

Her pregnancy hadn't been too difficult; morning sickness, of course, which had been the major downside for her, and swollen ankles towards the end, which she'd expected. The hospital hadn't been too hard on her, cutting her slack when they could and giving her as much maternity leave as possible. Zoey was eager to get back to work, however, loving the hospital and her young patients in pediatrics.

Zoey's water had broken just as she and Chase were about to leave to have dinner with some old PCA friends to, ironically, celebrate the baby's upcoming birth. Lola and her husband, Quinn and Mark, Logan and his girl of the month, and Michael and his girlfriend Pam were all waiting at the restaurant for the expecting parents when Chase had called in a rush to let them know they were at the hospital. All eight of them had left dinner behind and had instead joined a nervous Chase and even more nervous Zoey to wait for the newest and smallest addition of the group to arrive.

The baby was still crying, but she was almost cleaned up. They asked if Zoey would like to hold her, but she responded that her eyes were so teary she was nervous she'd drop her daughter. Everyone in the room chuckled at the new mother's concerns, and in a moment a nurse was placing the baby girl in Zoey's arms.

The newborn stopped whimpering, her skin lightening to a beautiful pinky color, and Zoey didn't think she'd ever seen anything so spectacular. Chase was leaning over the bed, his head right next to his wife's, and he was cooing at their little girl.

The nurse asked if the parents had a name, and Zoey told her, after a second, that the baby's name was Rose, after Chase's late grandmother. That sent Chase into another bout of crying, which then prompted him to make a joke about the crazy fluctuating hormones being passed on to _him_.

Zoey was in awe of her daughter. The baby blinked a little and Zoey just barely caught a hint of blue-green, and she knew in that moment Rose was going to have her father's eyes. Her nose and lips, however, were very much like Zoey's, and Chase pointed that out happily as he held on to Rose's impossibly tiny fist. She was premature, two weeks before the due date, but she was healthy and seemed already to have an easy-going countenance, similar to Chase.

The nurse excused herself for a moment to bring a chart to the nurse's station outside the room, which gave the new family a few minutes to bond. Chase kissed his little girl on the forehead, on the arm, on the foot, alternating between showering his daughter with affection and showering his wife with affection. She's gorgeous, he told Zoey. She only responded, I know. Then she asked: Do you want to hold her?

Really, Zoey did not want to give up her baby just yet, but then she supposed Chase _did_ have a right to hold his own newborn child; Zoey couldn't be selfish. So she brought Rose up close to her face and took a second just to inhale her sweet baby scent, then kissed her on the head.

It was a light kiss, but full of promises that she hoped her daughter had somehow understood. Promises of love, of loyalty, of caring, of understanding, of educating and disciplining and spoiling and supporting, of discussing boys and finding dresses for dances and buying makeup. The kiss was unlike anything Zoey had ever experienced before; this was a person who was a _part_ of her, who had _come_ from her. This was her daughter. Her baby.

For just a brief flash as Zoey's lips brushed Rose's fine hair, she remembered her past first kisses. She didn't know why, but she recalled Eric, and Nick, and Shawn, and that Cute Theater Friend, and Kyle, and her first kiss with Chase at the beach when they were sixteen, and also when they got married eight years after that.

But as soon as the images appeared they were gone, and Zoey could only focus on right now, and her new family.

She only slightly-unwillingly then passed Rose to Chase, who practically melted when the newborn was placed in his arms for the first time. Zoey could tell their daughter was going to be a daddy's girl just by the way Chase was looking at her.

Zoey watched, tiredly and half-dazed, as her husband gently rocked their daughter, speaking in soft tones with a face to match. It was an incredible scene, and Zoey felt tears forming for the millionth time that day.

That was the first time Zoey had ever kissed a newborn baby, _her_ newborn baby, and the last time she had ever given real thought to the first kisses in her life.

**XXX**

_End._


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